PERFORMANCE & COMEDY

Theatre Royal Bath (Mon 13-Sat 18 Feb)

THEATRE You’re the world’s most popular writer of stage comedy, with 74 already in the bag. Surely no one will notice if number 75 is a trawled-out two hours of join-the-dots plot with recycled throwaways and a vicar in the wardrobe? Aha, that proves you’re not Alan Ayckbourn. For a start there’s no vicar.

‘Neighbourhood Watch’ is the 300th new play premiered at Scarborough’s Stephen Joseph Theatre and comes to Bath following an off-Broadway run. The premise: middle-aged Christian siblings Hilda and Martin, full of fresh-start idealism, move into Bluebell Hill. At the housewarming party it becomes apparent that they’re on the edge, of both a housing estate and reasonable judgement. Britain and Empire have gone down the lav, yoofs are roaming the streets ready to stab your granny and all girls are sluts. The play aims to deal with the fear of crime; theatre is a perfect form to examine how reality is created and fuelled by communal anxiety, and Ayckbourn, as master farceur, is the perfect engineer of misunderstandings that begin at lack of empathy and end at all-out war.

The play starts with a slightly overlong monologue as Hilda (Alexandra Mathie) delivers the eulogy for her brother. We flash back four months to meet the neighbours. Rod (a pitch-perfect Terence Booth) is ex-army and obsessed with high fences. Cuckolded Gareth likes his shed. Wife Amy is too young. Add nosy Dorothy, mousey Magda and violent husband Luther and so far so 70s sitcom. From talk of domestic security it’s a short hop to the installation of razor wire, street wardens and ID cards as the residents establish a gated community that wins praise from the Daily Mail. If you’re not used to this kind of play, the stageyness takes a bit of getting used to and the action (directed by the playwright) is oddly static. In fairness, Pip Leckenby’s set of curved sofas would have been designed in-the-round but in a proscenium production it takes a while for any physical pace to override the talky nature of the piece.

It’s difficult to write a review that denies any expectations as a new Ayckbourn comes with attendant ‘event’ status. Only, what if middle-class problems are not your experience or concern? What if you’re happy to watch these characters implode with the consequences of received morality/paranoia that itself springs from community detachment? What Ayckbourn does best is write about emotionally half-formed suburbanites sweeping desperation under the shag-pile. He can uncover profundity in the parochial. Here, with an audience who may seem to reflect the ages and social placement of the play, it’s arguably unclear who his targets are, especially as the idea of society being one step from anarchy isn’t a fresh one. If he’s creating archetypes – vigilante, virgin, whore and so on – at whom we can laugh for being so ridiculous, thus laughing at ourselves, then it could be seen as job done. Arguably it could go much darker, with a sharper bite. As Martin, Matthew Cottle makes best use of the gear shift from proselytizing committee leader to potential Messiah. There are flashes of dialogue that reveal great dexterity and comic timing as though a warm-up for the next play. No surprise that Sir Alan has already completed number 76. Which is called ‘Surprises’. (Kerry Hood)

Copyoright Kerry Hood 2012